


Everybody Runs

by Rhianne



Series: Everybody Runs [1]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhianne/pseuds/Rhianne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair finally finds a risk he can't take.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blair finally finds a risk he can't take.

The strongest memory I have of my childhood is of sitting on Naomi’s bed, watching her pack our clothes into a bag as she got ready to leave yet another man who wanted to make their relationship permanent. There were so many beds - dozens of different rooms, different color schemes and different men, but one thing was constant. 

Naomi was always packing.

When I was really small I’d sit on the bed, swinging my legs in barely concealed excitement because the packing meant that we were going on another adventure, just me and my momma with no-one else around to steal her attention away from me. 

Things were so simple back then.

As I got older, my need for adventure changed into something else. Gradually I began to dread the day that I’d come home from school to see Naomi’s battered suitcase lying open on the bed. Instead I secretly yearned for the security that the other kids had, wishing desperately that we could stay in one place long enough for me to make friends of my own instead of always being the new kid; the son of the hippy.

Over the years I learned to see it coming. About the same time the boyfriend of the moment began talking about love or commitment - sometimes even marriage - Naomi would start getting restless. I’d walk in sometimes to find her staring through the window at nothing with a strange little wistful smile on her face, and I’d know then that it wouldn’t be long before we moved on again.

Naomi was nothing if not a product of her time - it was the Seventies after all, and there was always another spiritual retreat just around the corner, another guru offering enlightenment that she just had to visit. But that was Naomi’s search, not mine, and after years of leaving every home I’d ever known, I began to wish that I could grow up that little bit faster. If I was just a bit older then it could be my turn to decide where I wanted to live.

Every time we walked out on our home, I’d see the hurt in the eyes of the people we left behind and I’d promise myself that when I was old enough, when it was my turn, I would choose to stay.

Naomi was always running from something, but then I was too young to know what it was. Now I am older, and looking back with adult eyes, I can recognize the longing in her face as she said goodbye to someone else who was offering her a home. I can see how desperately she wanted to stay, to accept the sanctuary and the love that was freely offered, if she had only been brave enough to take it.

All my life, I’ve promised myself that I would do things differently - I’d choose to stay, and I wouldn’t be a coward like Naomi. Yet here I am, packing clothes into a suitcase just like she used to do.

The only difference between us is that I don’t have a kid to sit and watch me pack. Instead I have Jim, who is standing in the doorway wearing the same hurt and confusion on his face that I saw in so many of Naomi’s lovers. And I know that when I walk out of the loft, there will be the same longing on my face that I used to see in Naomi’s. 

Finally I understand why she couldn’t stay - why she could never take the risk.

I am my mother’s son.


	2. Everybody Runs: Nurture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim takes a stand.

~*~*~  
~ Res•o•lu•tion: n. The state or quality of being resolute; firm determination ~ (Dictionary.com)  
~*~*~

Standing in the doorway of Sandburg’s room, Jim leant against the wall, arms folded across his chest as he silently watched Blair pack. Sandburg’s head was down, his hair forming a barrier between them that it seemed neither man was prepared to break.

Sandburg refused to even acknowledge Jim’s presence as he methodically packed his clothes into a bag. Both men were silent now - the angry words and protests already shared between them until there was nothing more to say.

Blair was leaving, and Jim, it seemed, had run out of arguments.

Sandburg was the very picture of cold, unfeeling determination, but Jim had years of experience in reading his partner’s body language, in hearing all the words he didn’t say, and right now, that body language was talking louder than a thousand Sandburg’s ever could.

The hands that were currently pulling books from the shelves were shaking, every muscle in his body tensed with adrenaline - the very picture of a fight or flight response. His jaw was rigid, the lines on his face tight with pain, and his eyes shone suspiciously bright in the dim light of the room.

In spite of what some people thought, Jim was not a stupid man. Admittedly he sometimes had a tendency to play dumb; allowing people to underestimate him and his abilities was a serious advantage in his police work, but that didn’t mean he was blind. Just as Blair’s skills as an observer made him a great cop, Jim’s skills as a cop and ex-army ranger meant he was a damn good observer. 

Reading other people was one of the first skills you learned as a ranger - knowing how the enemy was going to react, and why, was a vital survival skill. One his sentinel abilities had enhanced even further.

He knew his limitations, of course - as a ranger overconfidence was the quickest way to get yourself killed, but he’d learned to be a good judge of character. 

He’d spent a lot of time watching Blair over the last three years. At first he’d been deeply suspicious of the hippy who was claiming to be his salvation, and then he’d watched more out of curiosity, wanting to know everything about the man who had appeared in his life like a whirlwind. He’d seen the desperate need to belong that bubbled under Sandburg’s confident façade, the self-conscious uncertainty in his eyes in the early days whenever someone at the PD made it clear he wasn’t part of the crowd.

Jim had wondered, at first, what had made Blair so unsure of himself, why his self-worth was so shaky when everything he’d found out about Blair’s past had suggested that he was one of Rainier’s success stories - hauled out to perform at so many of the university functions. He was the young prodigy made good.

He’d heard all about Blair’s past and his beautiful mother long before they’d ever met. The grad student had regaled him with incredible stories of the places they’d traveled and the things they’d seen; humorous tales artfully created to show just how much Blair had enjoyed his years traveling with his mother.

At first he’d dismissed Naomi has a harmless hippy - seeing the effects of Blair’s upbringing in his more free-spirited personality traits without ever realizing what that meant.

That had been his first mistake. Blair was a product of his upbringing just like Jim was a product of his, but what Jim hadn’t realized was that Naomi’s influence over her son was more dangerous to their relationship than any of the madmen they’d come up against in their years together. 

Then Jim had met Naomi, and suddenly everything had started to make sense. Suddenly Jim had been able to read between the lines of all of Blair’s amusing childhood stories and hear everything that Blair hadn’t said. The constant moving from town to town had given him no security in his life; he’d never been able to find his niche because he was always the new kid. Never able to make a real connection with those around him before Naomi decided it was time to move on without any regard for the needs of her son. 

There had been a time when Jim had envied Blair his upbringing, seeing in Blair’s stories all the freedom he had once longed for as a child growing up under the stringent rules of William Ellison’s household. 

He knew better now.

In a different way, Naomi’s love for her son had been just as stifling, just as damaging, as William Ellison’s love for his. Both children had learned that they were less important than their parent’s own wishes, and Jim would lay down money that Blair’s childhood intellect had been rolled out to impress and amuse Naomi’s friends just as Jim’s prowess at sport had been such a status symbol for his father. In many ways, Jim and Blair were more alike than either of them had realized.

But while Blair’s unconditional love and support for Jim had gone a long way towards healing the wounds that William Ellison had left behind, Jim had always backed off from questioning Naomi’s parenting skills. Blair was fiercely protective of his mother, and Jim had instead tried to express his support with actions rather than words. Tried to show Blair that he belonged, that he always had a home here - a home that no-one could take away.

But just as Jim’s own fears had once stopped him from accepting his sentinel senses, it seemed that Blair’s fear of needing someone, of giving himself to another person and risking the rejection and hurt that he believed always came hand in hand with love was now threatening to come between them, and there was no way in hell that Jim was ever going to let that happen. 

If that meant Jim had to fight the ghost of Naomi Sandburg and everything that Blair’s upbringing had taught him, then so be it.

In a way, Blair had been fighting William Ellison’s influence since the day they first met, and Jim owed it to Blair to do the same. 

Jim smiled to himself then - a grim, determined smile that didn’t reach his eyes. If Sandburg thought that Jim had given up fighting and resigned himself to Blair’s departure, then the man didn’t know him very well. 

This was just the interval before Round Two.

Sandburg wasn’t going anywhere.


End file.
